“You gonna tell me about it?” He set it gently back onto her flesh.
“It was my mother’s.”
“I guessed as much.” He was quiet for a moment and picked up his knife and fork. “What was she like?”
Leah laughed softly. “She didn’t go in for all of this. She was more at home with her dogs, walking in the forest, a picnic by the lake. That was her idea of a perfect day.”
“Sounds perfect.” He speared an asparagus tip and popped it into his mouth. It tasted weird. “So your father wasn’t mayor back then?”
“No, he was campaigning, but it didn’t happen until after she’d died and he met Ellen.”
“And Ellen loves all of this, right?”
“Right.”
“You look like her. Your mother.”
“What?” Leah raised her eyebrows at him.
“The photographs, at your house. You look similar.”
“Thank you.” She smiled. “I like that you think so.”
He leaned forward, pinched her chin, and set a small kiss on her lips. “Two beautiful women. I’m sorry not to meet her.”
“Excuse me.”
He pulled back and looked to his right.
Ellen stood there, arms crossed. If Botox had allowed her to frown, her brow would have been a series of lines.
“Can I steal my stepdaughter?”
He sensed Leah tense. She obviously didn’t like being referred to that way.
“I don’t usually take too kindly to being stolen from, Mrs. White.” He slid one arm over the back of Leah’s seat.
Ellen’s lips flattened, pencil-thin.
“But on this occasion.” Carter forced a smile. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you,” she said stiffly. “Leah.” She gestured to the crowd. “You really should mingle a little. You were late, and people might start leaving soon.”
“Yes. Of course.” Leah stood. “And I’m sorry for being late.”
Carter felt his jaw tighten. He hated the duty she felt to her father and Ellen. He got the sense they didn’t really care much for Leah, only about appearances and bragging rights that she was doing so well with her career.
The two women walked away. They were quickly approached by an elderly couple.
Leah smiled and allowed her cheeks to be kissed. But even from a distance, Carter could see her smile didn’t go to her eyes.
With his meal finished, he pulled out a cigarette and popped it between his lips. He rooted for his lighter—chrome with a Harley emblem on the side—and lit his smoke. He drew deep and put his arm back over Leah’s chair, crossed his left foot over his right knee. A few people glanced his way. He stood out like a sore thumb, he knew he did, but he couldn’t care less.
His attention stuck to Leah as he blew out a thin stream of smoke.
They were moving on, Ellen smoothing a crease in Leah’s short sleeve.
They came to a halt beside a tall, slim man wearing chinos and a pale-blue shirt with an embroidered logo on the chest. His white-blond hair was carefully held in position with some kind of product that would be alien in Carter’s bathroom.